Many Tales to Tell
by Mai Ascot
Summary: Every single HP character is given a ficlet, small or big in canon, they are all listed and written about in alphabetical order by a mad author who's in way over her head. Enjoy!
1. Aidan Lynch

**High Enough**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does.

**AN: **In a snap decision I have decided to go through all of the Harry Potter characters list and do little ficlets about each of them. Enjoy!

**...**

"Idiot." hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"Failure." hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"Couldn't see a Wronski Feint by _Krum?_" hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"A little dazed_, Captain_?" hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"Sure you _deserve _that title?" hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"Me, Mullet and Moran did all the work." hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"Second Place." hissed Troy in his ear.

Aidan just held his head up higher.

"Excellent work, Troy. There's always next year!" he said in a hearty voice before walking off.

_Because they had all come high enough, and Aidan Lynch refused to fall just yet._


	2. Aberforth Dumbledore

**2. The Sea of Spells**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does.

**AN: **The turn of Aberforth Dumbledore, and the death of Ariana.

**...**

I was slammed against a wall, my arm making a horrible cracking noise.

Albus didn't even look my way.

_Some big brother now. Not as easy as you thought it'd be, was it? Acting Mummy and Daddy and Big Brother and Best Friend._

I heaved myself up again and yelled yet another spell in Grindelwald's direction. I saw blood pooling on the floor from where he was standing, and I felt a grim satisfaction well in my stomach.

_I hope that hurt._

The thought came into my mind before I could stop it, and I found myself wondering why I agreed with it.

Then I heard Albus, (or was it Gellert?) scream "_**Avada Kedavra!**__"_

That's when I knew it was serious.

Soon Unforgivables and what not were flying through the air, everyone ducking and diving and shooting out more spells.

"Stop! Stop!" a high voice penetrated through the storm.

I twisted my head round - and saw Ariana.

Hands outstretched, running forward into the sea of spells, trying to stop. A curse was already on my lips.

One last second and her blue eyes widened, she stumbled as if in a dream. The spells stopped.

And Ariana, sweet small Ariana, was dead on the floor, submerged by the Sea of Spells.


	3. Abraxas Malfoy

**3. Work With This**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the Harry Potter Universe, everything belongs to JKR.

**AN: **The Last Chapter was sad, so I'm annoyed at having to do a Malfoy this chapter, cause these guys just rub me the wrong way! But... here goes. Damn the alphabet.

**...**

"Come on Rhea. Just push a little harder."

By the screams coming through the wall, Rhea _was _pushing a little harder.

Suddenly the screams ceased (_finally_) and a newborn's cries filled the air. Abraxas massaged his temples, and had a mantra going in his head that sounded suspiciously like a prayer. But Abraxas Malfoy didn't resort to the Gods to solve his problems.

Except maybe this once. (_Who would want to go through a nine month pregnancy of hormonal wife more than one time?)_

_...Please let it be a boy... Let it be an heir... Dear God let it be male..._

"Mr Malfoy?" The medi-witch, the perky one, stuck her head out of the room and beckoned to him, with a huge smile on her face.

He stood up, and came to the door of the room.

Inside of the blue room, Rhea was laying on the bed, her usually ultra blonde hair looked dirty as it stuck to her face, and her figure didn't look at its best in that downright _hideous _hospital gown.

But she was beaming, holding a pink and yellow babe in her arms, (_which were bloody_) and for a moment he hardly dared believe it.

"Is it...?"

"Meet your son, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."

Abraxas breathed out.

"I can work with this."


	4. Adrian Pucey

**4. Fair Play**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Everything belongs to JKR.

**AN: **Did you know that the Harry Potter wiki is indispensable in times like these? Apparently Adrian Pucey never committed a foul even though he was on the Slytherin Quidditch Team? That is quite an achievement. This is in his honour.

**Warning! **Mild Language below. Read if you dare.

**...**

"What the Hell, Pucey?" Flint was right up close to his face, his hot breath on Adrian's face, making him wanting to throw up.

"You could've gotten away with knocking Johnson off her broom!" Malfoy (_blonde little git_) chimed in, shooting a dirty look at Adrian.

"Instead _I _had to do the deed and one of those Weasel Twins knocked me off with a Bludger! What you got to say for yourself man! You're supposed to be a Slytherin!" Flint was getting really worked out by this point, Adrian could see.

He stepped backwards as Flint threw a blind punch in his direction before getting his cool back.

"Another cock up like that and you're off, understand me Pucey?" he leered, his troll like face almost touching Adrian's.

"Perfectly." and with that, Adrian picked up his green and silver Quidditch uniform off the bench, and handed it to Flint.

Flint stared at it for a second before looking back at Pucey.

"Wha- You can't just-"

"I can and I will. We're the ambitious and sly House, not the house of cheaters. I'm better than that. Are you?"

"Are you suggesting-" Flint started menacingly.

Adrian stepped forward.

"Yeah, I am. There's this thing Flint, it's real interesting. It's called Fair Play."

Then Adrian Pucey walked out of the changing room, and all was silent within.


	5. Alastor Moody

**5. Constant Vigilance**

**Disclaimer: **JKR wrote and owns the Harry Potter series.

**AN: **Mad Eye Moody! Ever wondered how he got his Mad-Eye? Neither did I. But I'm doing it because I can't think of anything else to do. This is the aftermath.

**...**

"So how did you manage this?" the medi-witch was kind, and had kinky bubblegum pink coloured hair, and when he had asked about it, she had said that she had used a colour changing potion not the Acromulta Venom which could have similar results. And Death. But he'd had to be sure, couldn't be too careful these dark days.

"Death Eater" he grunted. Rosier, to be exact. Sadly, the bastard was dead so he couldn't kill him again. Killing him was fun though. Moody smiled, and his scarred face must've looked grotesque because the pink haired medi-witch let out an involuntary gasp.

She quickly coughed to cover it and brought out her clipboard.

"These are your injuries, Mr Moody, Sir." she squeaked. "Six-sixteen slashes across face, Four a-across body, part of no-nose blasted off, bot-bottom part of l-left leg missing and e-eye gouged out." her voice became even more horrorfied at each new injury.

Moody himself was thinking of what he'd look like when he made an image of himself in his mind, he decided he'd look like the kind of guy that would send Death Eaters (or what's left of them when he was finished with 'em) running home to their mummies.

As Alastor Moody always said, to his dying day-

_Constant Vigilance._


	6. Albus Dumbledore

**6. Big Red Chair**

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns Harry Potter. I don't. Sadly :(

**AN: **Going back to school tomorrow ... If I don't update as frequently, I blame my teachers who seem to enjoy giving out ridiculous amounts of homework. Sorry 'bout that.

**...**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore leaned back in his big, red chair.

The _Headmaster's _big, red chair.

If you were going to be specific it was also the chair of the holder of a _Order of Merlin, First Class, _the _Grand Sorcerer _and _Chief Warlock's _chair and the _Supreme Mugwump's _chair and the chair of a member of the _International Conferation of Wizards & Witches._

Albus was finding it hard to stretch his head round it all.

How could he-

How _did _he-

Gellert Grindelwald.

The Greater Good.

Albus shook his head sadly and put his head in his hands, a weak emotion for the Supreme Mugwump. And the Grand Sorcerer. And the Chief Warlock.

But Albus didn't care.

To get his spirits up, he opened a chocolate frog, and as he was consuming the delightful chocolate amphibian, he almost spat it back out again.

"_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly_

_famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve_

_uses of dragons blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor_

_Dumbeldore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling._"

Albus dropped the card and put his head in his hands.

While sitting in his big, red _Headmaster's _chair.


	7. Albus Potter

**7. To Choose**

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns the Harry Potter Universe, not I. Life is so unfair. ):

**AN: **I had the worst first and second day back to school. I feel depressed so this'll be short. Sorry.

Blah: Albus talking to Hat.

_Blah: _Hat talking to Albus.

**...**

"Potter, Albus!" Professor Sinistra called.

Albus' legs were shaking as he walked up to the stool. He took one last furtive look round the Great Hall before he turned back to the three legged stool.

James had been grinning. The Git.

Rose hadn't been much better.

Or Fred.

Or Roxanne.

Or Dominque.

Or Louis.

Some family he had.

So Albus Severus Potter continued to the ragged old hat, and closed his eyes tight as his view of the four tables disappeared.

_Oh, another Weasley? No... that was your mother who was the Weasley. You are a Potter._

Yes.

_So... on with your sorting! Bravery, truckloads of it, from both sides I assume. Clever... and much more bookish than your brother. Loyal and Hardworking, both good traits to have. A thirst to live up to your parents and uncle's legacy..._

Please not Slytherin. Please. Please.

_Ahh... a sense of déjà vu I am having here. Your father said almost exactly the same thing to me. I wasn't considering it though. You may choose. Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?_

I... Gryffindor please.

"_**GRYFFINDOR!"**_

As Albus sat down at the Red and Gold table, and was clapped on the back by his fellow housemates, he looked back at the old raggedy hat and smiled.

It didn't seem so scary anymore.


	8. Alecto Carrow

**8. Bare**

**Disclaimer: **We've been over this. I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does.

**AN: **I always wondered why the Carrow's were so mean to the children of Hogwarts (except they're Death Eaters and evil gits...) But I like to go deeper than that. Every bad and good move has a reason: and this is mine for the evilness of the one and only Alecto Carrow.

**...**

"_Crucio!_"

Alecto Carrow watched the Longbottom boy. He was _screaming._

She forced a sneering smile on her face, to mirror her brother Amycus'. When she finally lifted the spell she watched him unsteadily get to his feet and then fall back down again, letting out an involuntary gasp of pain.

_Pain._

She remembered her very first _Crucio. _Given to her by the Dark Lord himself.

Her Dark Mark tingled just thinking about it.

_The Pain._

Hundreds, Thousands, Hundreds of Thousands of white hot butcher's knives attacking every spot on her body. She had begged for death. _Kill Me Now. Kill Me Now._

But he hadn't.

He had placed the Dark Mark on her pale skin.

_It Burned._

She watched him stumble to his feet, send one hate-filled look at her and walked (limping) out of the Dungeons.

She remembered Frank and Alice.

Alice had been one of her best friends.

Her Only Friend.

Then Alice had gotten pregnant.

She had ran in.

Screaming in delight.

_I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant I'm Pregnant._

_Alice was Pregnant._

She had screamed too.

Screamed in ecstasy for her friend.

_Really? That's amazing! That's Brilliant! Fantastic!_

Then...

Eight Months later.

She had been crying.

_Alice... Alice... Please Help... ALICE... I'm... I'm... I'm..._

Barren.

She was barren.

Alice had held her.

_Shhh... shhh... shhh..._

But when Neville was born. Neville Longbottom.

The child she could never and would never have.

So she turned to the Dark Lord.

Now... Alice was Mad.

_Mad. Alice._

She was crucio-ing Neville.

Mad Alice's son.

And inside she was Barren.

Bare for all to see.


	9. Alice Longbottom

**9. Very Strange**

**Disclaimer: **JKR is a literary genius. I am not. Guess who wrote HP.

**AN: **Poor Alice... Poor Frank... Poor Neville... *sniff* Alice IS mad so this is going to be a mad chapter. Like my logic?

**...**

Very Very Very Very Very Very Strange.

Le?

Lestrange.

Lestrange.

Bellatrix-

Bella means _beautiful _in italiano.

It- _arll- _ee- _arno._

_Arno._

_Ammo._

_Emma._

_Emma?_

Emma Bemma Semma Dreamma-

Dream!

Dreamy Beam...

Cleany Seem...

Like sweeties.

Sweeties.

Or Shinies that came round sweeties.

Ne- vill takes _them._

Reverently, almost like it's the last he's got-

_Got._

_Rot._

_Pot._

_Smot._

_Smoke._

_Poke._

_Pokey Jokey Fokey._

_Emma._

_Bemma._

_Emmaline._

_Iodine._

_Io?_

What was _**CRUCIOCRUCIOCRUCIO?**_

Le? (_Was that it?)_

Lestrange.

Lestrange.

Bellatrix-

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Very Very Very Very Very Very Strange.


	10. Alicia Spinnet

**10. A Difference.**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the HP Universe. That is all credited to JKR.

**AN: **I hate my life. Gaaaah. I hate Alicia Spinnet because she's so... uninteresting. Dull. Boring. Daaaaaaaaaaaah. She's a chaser on the Quidditch Team. That's _it. _So I am going to use my artistic license.

So... dull...

I'm sorry this took so long. She's dull.

**...**

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

Alicia sat up fast in bed, her heart pounding in her ears.

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

She remembered the sneer on his face.

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

Malfoy needed taking down a peg or two.

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

They all did.

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

The Pureblood supremacists.

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

How she _hated _them.

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

But what could she, Alicia Spinnet, do?

"_**Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood... Mudblood...Mudblood..."**_

So Alicia laid back down and cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could ever make a difference.

"_**Shut up! You filthy little Mudblood..."**_


	11. Alphard Black

**11. A Lot of Things**

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns and commands at will the world of Harry Potter. Lucky Woman.

**AN: **Alphard is... better. 100x better than Alicia. If anyone thinks that the last chapter was too terrible then they can write their own version, cause I am NOT repeating that particular experience. This'll be a quickie as I'm supposed to be doing my Spanish homework... oops.

**...**

Alphard Black was a lot of things.

He was the kind of man that was easy to annoy, the kind of man that would explode if you tapped your fingers in a certain manner.

He was the kind of man, who looked forever for something, hoping it existed. Maybe a Deathly Hallow, or a woman that looked past his last name.

He was the kind of man, that raked his fingers through his thick dark hair when he was exasperated, or confused.

He was the kind of man that would got to great lengths just to see how far he could push his siblings, and would laugh at the most un-funny, serious things.

He was the kind of man that would do anything for his nephews and nieces, yet only one nephew and one niece loved him back, the rest dismissing him an idiot for not marrying and carrying on the _oh so precious _Black bloodline of snotty, dark purebloods.

No thank you, thought Alphard Black, because that was the kind of man Alphard Black was.

So when Sirius, his favourite nephew came knocking on his door, saying he'd run away, that he needed a place to stay, Alphard Black welcomed him with open arms.

When he lost his place on the Black tapestry because of it, he didn't care.

Because Alphard Black was a lot of things, but he had never been a Black.


	12. Amelia Bones

**12. The Iron Lady**

**Disclaimer: **JKR owns everything. Unfortunatley.

**AN: **Does anyone know how to describe your school in Spanish? Cause I don't. And I am putting it off by writing FF. Ah the uses for this site...

**...**

Amelia Bones knew that she was terrifying on a bad day.

Her hair seemed to go so unmoving it was as if she was wearing a helmet, her face became an emotionless mask save her mouth disappearing altogether, and her eyes had been compared to muggle lasers or coal pits sending her victims _- sorry, work colleagues- _crying for their mummies, which seemed to please Amelia Bones immensely.

Her brother Edgar and his family were coming round for dinner for a catch up, and she;d get to see her niece Susan, who was a year old the next day, so today was _not _one of these terrifying-Amelia days, which many in the Law Enforcement Office were thankful for.

As the day was finishing, a new recruit (Boot, was it? Or Boat? Amelia could never remember) ran in, scattering paper behind him. Breathing heavily, he spoke of a Death Eater attack on a house out in the country. After stammering the address which Amelia did not quite catch, she and others side-apparated to the place, on the arms of Aurors.

It was pandemonium, green, red, blue lights darting around like fireworks, causing Amelia to duck swiftly out of the way of an _Avada Kedavra _green spell that probably would've killed her. She soon started fighting, and the Death Eaters disappeared.

Then, _oh god please no, _then she looked round, _oh god please no, _and identified the house, _oh god please no, _she identified the two bodies laying side by side on the ground, _oh god please no, _Edgar and Helen Bones, _oh god please no, _their wands still in their hands, _oh god please no, _their eyes wide open, unseeing, _oh god please no, _and a cry echoed from her chest.

She dropped to her knees, _oh god please no, _closing their eyes, _oh god please no, _and sobbing openly in front of her brother and sister-in-law's bodies, _oh god their __**bodies**__, _and she cried and cried, not even turning when Susan was brought out, _alive, _bawling her beautiful little head off. _Oh god please no._

_This was truly, the worst of days._

_The day that Amelia Bones was no longer made of iron._


	13. Amos Diggory

**13. Unlucky**

**Disclaimer: **We've been over this. Look at last chapters.

**AN: **Still... putting... off... Spanish... homework... (find the Just My Luck quote and get virtual cookies!)

**...**

Amos Diggory had always thought himself a very lucky man.

He had a beautiful wife (what she saw in him he didn't know), a perfect son (look at that jawline! And those _eyes_) and the best friends anyone could ask for (waiting for him so Arthur's party could begin, really going the extra mile) and good pay for a job he loved doing (how did he manage it?).

All Amos Diggory could come up with was that when he had been whacked with the lucky stick, he was whacked _good._

Then came the Goblet of Fire.

And the Fourth Champion, in the shape of Harry Potter.

_Cedric already beat him, _Amos assured himself. He'll be fine. I'm so proud of him.

Then came Harry Potter's voice in the Third Task, saying "_He asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him there!"_ and Amos Diggory saw Cedric's dead body, staring lifelessly at something he could no longer see.

All Amos Diggory could think that he was the Unluckiest Man in the world.


	14. Amy Benson

**14. Something Special**

**Disclaimer: **No, contrary to popular belief, I do not own Harry Potter.

**AN: **I have officially given up on my Spanish homework. I now need to come up with a really good excuse of why I didn't do it. The "_my dog ate it" _excuse won't work as I don't have a dog, or a cat, or a hamster (as of recently... RIP Humphrey).

**...**

Amy Benson was nothing special.

She had been told this every day of her life, by her alcoholic mother, abusive father, disapproving nuns looking down at her in their _I'm-holy-you-should-be-too _way that made her want to wretch.

Her best friend had never told her that, because Dennis was one of those kids that kept these things to himself.

It was implied when he asked one of the bigger kids for help with his homework, instead of her though.

Then the children of Wool's Orphanage went on a trip to the seaside, and Tom Riddle said there was something really cool inside a cave she had to see.

She, being foolhardy, had followed him, unaware that Dennis had trailed them also.

Tom had been upset, and ...something... had happened, so she couldn't speak about it.

But much to the other kid's confusion, she smiled at Tom Riddle from that day onward, and for the rest of her life, whenever her mind rested on the memory of Tom Marvalo Riddle at Wool's Orphanage, she smiled, sure that he was

_Something Special._


	15. Amycus Carrow

**15. Slightly Smaller**

**Disclaimer: **Ok, people. The Lawsuit failed. I still don't own Harry Potter. JKR still holds the title.

**AN: **I know this one's been a long time coming but I needed to find a shred of good in Amycus. And after re-reading Harry Potter wiki profile for him, I found his weakness: his sister.

Enjoy the nice-ish Amycus Carrow!

**...**

When he saw her sprawled across the carpet, unmoving, Dark Mark stained black on her arm, Amycus felt as if his heart was breaking.

_What did they do to her?_

But he knew they had done nothing.

She had done it to herself.

She had never been this open in her suicide attempts before.

He had been dealing with them for almost eighteen years now, hiding all the knives in the house, making sure she never got hold of any powerful drugs. He knew that the only reason that she hadn't _Avada'd _herself was because she thought she deserved a more painful exit from the world.

This was really something else.

Getting the Dark Lord's hopes up... only for him to murder you in a fit of rage.

Ingenious.

He knew blaming the kids was wrong, but he didn't care.

They were so much bigger than her.

So much bigger than him.

But she was slightly smaller than him, so he had to protect her, even if it killed them.


	16. Andromeda Tonks

**16. Just Like You**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does. I'm sure we've been over this before.

**AN: **I've been thinking about Andromeda's life, and I've realised that she's in nearly every important element in the latter books, while being barley mentioned. It was really hard to focus on what part of her life to focus on, so I've decided on when she ran away with Ted.

**...**

"You're throwing away your life!" Bellatrix's shout cut through her made up mind, as she threw her cases in the back of Ted's car.

Ted himself was staying safely out of harm's way inside the car, which she didn't blame him for. The five wands pointed at it (Bella, Walburga , Druella, Cygnus and Orion) was enough to make anybody, despite how brave they were, be desperate to get something metal between himself/herself and them.

"You're acting like a mudblood! Hasty decisions! He's _infected _you hasn't he? HASN'T HE!" Andromeda couldn't place where this shout came from, but she felt herself get angry. Very angry. _I'm-going-to-cut-off-your-manhood-if-you-don't-shut-up _angry.

"Goodbye." she said, simply, and got in the car, and told Ted to drive.

She turned her head slightly, so that out of the corner of her eye she saw Sirius and 'Cissa standing at the door, silent tears streaming down their faces, holding each others hands.

_Something Ends. _She can't think what.

She pulled her fingers through her curly hair (Cygnus), rubbing her face (so like Bella's), seeing a reflection of her eyes (so like 'Cissa's) and biting her lip (same colour as Sirius'). Her eyes weren't heavily lidded, but instead like those of a deer caught in the headlights when widened slightly (like Druella's) and of course the hands were long and thin (exactly like Walburga's).

_I'll always be Just Like You on the outside._


	17. Angelina Johnson

**17. Identical**

**Disclaimer: **We've been over this. Go back a ficlet or two.

**AN: **I've been waiting to do Angelina for ages! *EEEEEEEKK* Review and tell me if you like it!

**...**

She walked down the stairs, catching sight of Fred grinning at her, his eyes widening and his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish's when he saw her properly.

When she finally reached him he had recovered himself and told her she looked beautiful. Angelina blushed, especially when he gave her a red rose, promising it didn't bite.

He was wearing black and red dress robes, with a neon orange tie.

It suited him perfectly.

They went and danced and drank and laughed, and when the slow dance came, she started getting a terrible feeling of... _wrongness, _in the pit of her stomach, for some reason she couldn't fathom.

They span and span and span round until Angelina got dizzy, and then Fred leaned in to kiss her.

At least she thought he was (she wasn't quite sure of anything).

And then he stopped, and turned, and saw George, grinning, asking to dance with the fair lady.

Fred bowed out gracefully to his twin and stole another partner, a pretty Beuxbatons girl who was wandering alone, and George looked at her and told her she looked beautiful, and Angelina blushed so hard she was sure that she resembled a beetroot.

He was wearing black and red dress robes, with a neon orange tie.

It suited him perfectly.

They danced and drank and laughed, and when the final dance came, she started getting a brilliant feeling of... _rightness, _in the pit of her stomach, for some reason she couldn't fathom.

But she loved it.

They span and span and span round until Angelina got dizzy, and then George leaned in to kiss her.

At least she thought he was (she wasn't quite sure of anything).

And then he did, and it was perfect, and she was so dizzy and so in love with the moment she couldn't help wonder how identical the Weasley twins really were.


	18. Anthony Goldstein

**18. Much Too**

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter doesn't belong to me. If I did Fred would still be alive and Snape would still be regarded as an evil &*^^%£. Oh, and Harry and Ginny- would never ever ever _ever _have happened. _Ever. _And Harry's spawn would have better names.

**AN: **Doing this at school… burning time while my parents are at Parents Evening… (WHAT IF SHE TELLS THEM ABOUT ME NOT DOING MY SPANISH HOMEWORK?) I'm fine. (OMGOMGOMGOMG.) Absolutely fine. (I AM DEAD!) Absolutely fine…

Also my friend Budgie/Budge (also known as Jess by her birth certificate) has just made an account and her name is "budgie's are cool". So when she finally uploads stories on there I'm sure it'll be amazing!

…

Anthony Goldstein never quite knew what he was or who he was until he happened upon Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

When he had gotten the letter he had been amazed, and had immediately gone to question his mother on the whole thing.

She had sighed and said "You're much too clever for your own good" and had told him that his father had been a wizard, but he had died in the 'First War' whatever that was.

She was a muggle, but he was a wizard.

He had decided then and there he would be much too clever for his own good more often.

He had gotten into "_**RAVENCLAW!**_" because the Hat had said that he was an inquisitive person, but he had also been warned not to delve too deep.

Pfft.

By his fifth year he had become a prefect and was one of the top in his year in his OWLS. Umbridge- he had seen right through her, and would've placed a bet she was an unmarked Death Eater.

Two years later, he knew he was right.

The final battle, and Umbridge was fighting on the other side.

He was fighting with the DA, and had caught glimpses of his friends, and only hoped they hadn't been shot down by opposing forces.

He fought and slashed, and then he saw a vampire dart through the crowd. He was interested. Much too interested.

The vampire attacked someone, and their white face became whiter.

He couldn't see clearly, but assumed it was a Death Eater, so let it continue with it's work.

When it was done, he raced over to the body, because he was much too kind to let the filthy death eater's body get left in the cold.

But… it wasn't a Death Eater.

It was Lavender.

She was one of those pretty girls you mooned after and stared at and wished that she would suddenly choose you to be her boyfriend of the week.

In sixth year, he had hated Ron Weasley.

But now she was dead.

He could've stopped it.

He clothes were back because it was, 'so in right now!'

She had said to him about it that morning.

And now she was dead.

He could've stopped it.

But Anthony pulled her into the Room of Requirement, which looked like a smoking mess, and said a quick prayer over her pale body, kissing her forehead softly.

She was dead.

He could've stopped it.

And Anthony Goldstein realised he was much too stupid to be a Ravenclaw.

Much too evil.

Much too stupid.

So very stupid.


	19. Antioch Peverell

**19. The First**

**Disclaimer: **We all know JKR own Harry Potter, not me.

**AN: **Bleurgh... Got a Virus... Luckily managed to convince Mum to let me have the laptop (I begged). I had to look up 'Antioch P' on the Harry Potter Wiki (I worship it) and apparently he was the eldest brother. So you know that old saying 'The one who died for Power, the one who died for Lost Love, and the one who greeted Death like an old friend?'

Well, that is my inspiration for this ficlet. Also, a shout out to **bookworm 267 **and **The Second Shelf **who are amazing reviewers, and have been there since the beginning of this project. Thanks guys!

**...**

He had always been the first to anything.

He had been the first to be born.

He had been the first to walk, the first to say his first word.

He had been the first to smile at their mother, the first to hold his hands out to their father.

He had been the very first to comfort Ignotus after he had a bad dream, and the first to cheer for Cadmus when he won his very first duel.

He had been the first to lead his brothers when walking, the first to cry when their father died.

He had been the first to cut his hair, and when he watched his brothers do the same he had laughed.

He was the first to wink at a girl and the first to practise magic.

He had been the first to walk across the bridge, the first to ask of a gift from Death.

It only made sense he'd be the first to die as well.


	20. Antonin Dolohov

**20. Big Bully**

**Disclaimer:**

**AN: **I'm doing this in my break at school cause I have NOOO MOONEY and I need to keep my mind off bacon rolls.

**...**

Antonin Dolohov was a bully.

He killed, murdered and tortured for fun.

And he was praised for it.

His lord, was… magnificent.

Saving the wizarding world, disinfecting the pureblood society and family trees. And Antonin had the joy- the pleasure- the _honour _of being the disinfectant.

His wand had killed so many that he could sometimes only see flashes of green again and again when (if he was bored) he performed Priori Incantatem. Once or twice he had performed it outside the houses of the impure, so they could hear his previous victim's dying screams, and see the sickly green light dancing across their thin curtains.

Antonin Dolohov was a bully.

And that was just the way he liked it.


	21. Arabella Figg

**21. Smuggler**

**Disclaimer: **No, I DON'T own Harry Potter.

**AN: **This'll be a quickie, enjoy!

**...**

Arabella had always hated her name.

She had actually always preferred 'Isabella' which meant 'beautiful'. But Isabella would never have suited her as Arabella was not beautiful.

She had a bit of a complex about that actually, so she had decided to make dull things beautiful.

When she was proclaimed a Squib to the magical community, she just had thought to herself _Fine, it'll just be a little harder._

But, she couldn't _completely _let go of the magical community, so she became a Squib-pretending-to-be-a-muggle, to watch over Harry Potter.

Over the seventeen years she had been there, she had watched the little boy grow into a man, and had silently congratulated herself when he got away from Privet Drive safely for the last time, as Arabella Figg was a smuggler.

Not a Squib.

Not a Muggle.

The protector of Precious and Beautiful things.


	22. Argus Filch

**22. A Long List**

**Disclaimer: **I can very happily say I do NOT own Argus Filch, and unhappily say I do not own the rest of the Harry Potter Universe. JKR owns all.

**AN: **Whitney Houston is dead... RIP Whitney, I am now watching your Top 20 Greatest Hits on 4Music. Please don't have a 'Michael Jackson' death. Be boring. Please.

4Music has donated the whole morning to Ms Houston, which makes me beg the question: did they see it coming? Because when you look in the TV Guide (digital) by pressing the guide button on your remote, I swear it didn't say 'TOP 20 WHITNEY HOUSTON' yesterday... Imagine if 4Music could predict the future? Scary.

I had a hard time with this ficlet as I've already done Argus Filchie in a separate drabble so I had to think about a whole new plotline, which made my brain work hard...

**...**

Argus Filch sat in his office with a piece of parchment in front of him on the table, and a scratchy quill in his rough hands.

Argus pursed his lips and tapped the quill in an ink pot a few times.

_Exploding Quidditch Balls._

He wrote on the paper, and nodded silently, before writing down every product that he never ever _ever _wanted to see again.

_Lemon Drops._


	23. Ariana Dumbledore

**23. Dolly**

**Disclaimer: **JKR is the owner of Harry Potter.

**AN: **I saw 'The Woman in Black' this afternoon.

I am proud to say I did _not _wet my pants.

I'm not so proud to say I did swear, scream and have my dad in a death grip for 90% of it.

Terrified. Bone-shaking. If you go to see it, bring earplugs as the sound effects make it 100x worse. All melancholy and peaceful with Fur Elise in the background and then- BAM! Evil Lady in Black killing off children.

I may not sleep tonight.

If this is detached, it's because I'm looking behind me every 5 seconds looking for Liz White in a black veil and thick makeup.

**COMPETITION! **That is right people, I'm having a competition for Arthur Weasley's ficlet. Everybody should send in their fics (no longer than 500 words) by TOMORROW. This will probably be an occurrence for every letter of the alphabet, all the way through. Yes, it's short notice, but I'm nasty like that. If you like this idea, tell me, cause I think it'd be good if you like this to do it on a regular basis. Chow!

**...**

Ariana brushed her Dolly's hair with a small china brush as she walked outside into the garden, barefoot.

Suddenly, Dolly blinked.

Ariana didn't see this as unusual, because Dolly had once even yawned and asked for a bath.

But still, she blinked back at Dolly, and accidently dropped her brush, which promptly disappeared into the long grass. (_Was that the wind in the hedge?_)

She did what any magical child would've done.

She summoned it back.

There were two simultaneous gasps coming from the hedge, and two boys poked their heads out.

One, the bigger one, picked up a branch, and waved it around in a threatening manner.

They demanded she did it again.

She tried, she really did, but she couldn't.

Then the bigger one stepped closers, waving the branch again, and it hit something

Ariana turned tail and ran, leaving a shattered but blinking Dolly on the ground.


	24. Arthur Weasley

**24. Knowing**

**Disclaimer: **We all know who owns Harry Potter. And it definitely isn't me.

**AN: **Wow... lots of entries for the competition. In the end, I was torn between two lovers, and I only chose this one because I just loved the message and the mental images it gave me. So thank you to everyone who submitted a story, a special thanks to xFallingStarsx for her amazing entry that took my breath away, and thanks to The Second Shelf who wrote this ficlet, and won the competition.

**...**

Arthur Weasley knew things that other people didn't.

Arthur knew he was going to marry Molly Prewett. He couldn't remember when he first had that realization, but he could remember the first time he admitted it. The boys in his dorm had laughed when he said it. He wasn't surprised. After all, he was only fourteen, and he and Molly were little more than acquaintances. Their laughter didn't bother him, though; he knew he was right.

Arthur knew that all people, regardless of their heritage or their magical ability deserved to be treated with respect. He dedicated his career to protecting the ingenious inventions of Muggles, and he risked his life protecting the rights of those deemed inferior by the old magic families. His colleagues sneered at him in the hallways of the Ministry, but he didn't care. Their disapproval of his day job or his work with the Order only proved he was doing the right thing.

Arthur knew that his family was the most valuable thing he had. He once heard a man say that he only felt that way because he had no other valuables to speak of, but that man only said such a thing because he didn't know what Arthur knew.

He didn't know how it felt to create, to raise, and to be immeasurably proud of seven beautiful children.

He didn't know how it felt to watch those children learn to share all they had without instruction, simply because they knew no other way.

He didn't know how it felt to all but adopt a boy who knew next to nothing of love, and help to show him that love can indeed save the world.

He didn't know how it felt to receive an owl, or a fire call, or a patronus message that says "she has been taken," "the cup was a portkey," "I don't belong to this family anymore," "he's been poisoned," "it was Greyback," or "Fred's gone."

Arthur Weasley knew things that other people didn't, so he didn't despair when his family feared they would never get through the loss of one of their own. He knew that, despite the pain they were all feeling and would likely carry with them till the end of their days, they would get recover- together.


	25. Astoria Greengrass

**25. Need**

**Disclaimer: **I love the books. Just don't own them...

**AN: **I've had an idea like this for a while, but I don't know how it'll look on paper. Here goes anyway... *gulp*

**REWRITE ALERT! **I hated this chapter and how it was before, so I tweaked it a bit... I hope you like it more than I liked the previous attempt.

**...**

Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass didn't like to admit it, but she needed her sister.

She needed her when she was little, to tell her bedtime stories and give her a rough map of Hogwarts, to sing her a lullaby to keep the nightmares away and tuck her up in bed when their parents were too busy being ice cold purebloods with more important things to do.

Then she turned eleven and she said to herself that she didn't need her anymore.

She was a Slytherin, and she had gotten what she wanted from her sister, and would never need her again.

Well, look how that turned out.

Because she needed her sister so that she'd have someone to talk to, somebody sane in her completely insane world, somebody to love and to hate, somebody to compete with an win things from like they were children all over again.

But... she didn't need her sister like she needed Draco, or Scorpius, or Magic.

She needed her like an addictive Muggle drug that she couldn't stop smoking, an addiction to be loved, to compete with someone in the mad world she lived in.

Daphne had said once that Astoria needed her.

Astoria had said that was a complete and utter lie.

But in truth- Astoria was the one lying.

Because Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass didn't like to admit it, but she needed her sister, like she needed air to breathe.


	26. Audrey Weasley

**26. If This were a Fairytale**

**Disclaimer: **Ask JKR who owns Harry Potter. She won't say 'Mai Ascot.'

**AN: **I've had quite a long gap from this story, mainly because I've been working on my longer chapter stories, but now I've come back - and this one'll be _great. _I hope.

…

She still remembered when she had told her friends that she'd marry a tall, dark stranger with devilishly good looks and a motorbike (maybe he'd play guitar!) - a real bad boy.

She obviously hadn't counted on him being a red head.

She had met the certain red head when she was taking his order at the coffee shop she worked the weekends at. He was tall, yes, and he had horn rimmed glasses that flashed in the sunlight and covered his chocolate coloured eyes.

That was the first part of him she fell in love with, she thinks.

He came in the coffee shop every weekend for two years, ordering a pot of coffee for two that he downed all by himself and some kind of pastry.

After two years, he stammered out something along the lines of 'Would you like to go out sometime?" and she had smiled and asked where.

She had meant to just take pity on him at first, and then her and Percy (that was his name – not very bad boy at all) went to the London Eye, travelled on the Underground all day, going nowhere, climbing up and down the steps to the London Art Gallery as fast as they could and seeing West End shows every night for roughly a fortnight before they'd watched the whole lot.

And when he had got down on his knee and pulled out a ring, Audrey had found herself agreeing and squealing and saying _yesyesyes _as fast as she could.

And at her wedding twelve months later, Audrey decided that her fairytale bad boy was gone forever.

Because this was such a better story.


	27. Augusta Longbottom

**27. A Life of Pretence**

**Disclaimer: **And the owner of Harry Potter is (drum roll please)... not me.

**AN: ** Augusta Longbottom has always been a very complicated character for me, even if she wasn't mentioned that much, as she (in the HP series) acts like a human being would when they're experiencing extreme loss.

I know that sounds weird, but in HP and many other books the characters often act in a superhuman way, like Harry never properly being allowed to grieve for Sirius etc.

But on with the story...

**...**

Augusta had cried, when she saw them.

She had cried as fast as she could, as if that would make it stop faster (it never stopped) and they'd get better faster (but they never did) and Neville would stop crying (he did stop crying, but he never stopped grieving, not really) and Algie would just go and bother somebody else with his condolences ("-you never know what life'll throw at ya") and that the poor nurses would find somewhere else to be giving false hope ("it has been know for others have pulled through-") and realise that she wasn't listening and Alice to stop unwrapping sweets and throwing the chocolates over her shoulders (she loved caramel) and Frank would just look at her just _once _and there would be a shred of recognition- of something in his eyes and he'd smile at her like he used to (such a nice smile).

But the nurses did go, and Algie left (finally) after she had swore at him and Neville and started sleeping haphazardly on his mad mother's lap (no instincts at all) and Alice just... looked at her son and pushed him off her lap and Frank look at Neville and smiled (not his old smile, but good enough) and started cradling him and whispering gibberish in his ear.

And then she had swooped down and taken Neville out of his father's arms, and held him close and wept, and still Neville didn't wake. His father's son. Frank could sleep through practically anything.

But... his mother's features. He had blond hair (like Frank) but that was it other than his eyes which screamed that he was Frank's. A round face and dark eyelashes that brushed his little face, and pink cheeks, not flushed from crying, but they were always like that. A sweet little apple cheeked baby.

But he wasn't _hers._

But... she would make him hers.

_Hers._

And as much as she wished he was hers, he was Frank's, and Frank was hers.

But she could pretend.

For a little while.

And so Augusta Longbottom began a life of pretending.


	28. Augustus Rookwood

**28. Just A Name**

**Disclaimer: **I own HP, I don't own HP, I own HP, I don't own HP…

**AN: **I am SO SORRY. I've been having these cruel things in life called 'tests'. And that means 'revision'. And _that _means no stories/chapters. I only got off this weekend. So I'll try and make this a good one, but there's not much to work with…

…

Augustus Rookwood.

It wasn't so hard to say.

Augustus wasn't the normal name; but no wizarding names were exactly _normal. _If you could find two names that were exactly the same in wizard culture in different families _in the same time period _then Augustus would've eaten his galleons. But it really wasn't hard to say. August, as in the month, and then us on the end. Augustus. But even the law court couldn't get it right. Who the hell was 'Alberon Rookwood'?

Rookwood wasn't hard either. Rook, like the bird, with a long beak. And wood. That was obvious. Painfully so. If nobody could say his last name he wouldn't be shocked, but amazingly most people _could_ actually say his last name, and his faith in humanity was restored, but then it got tedious being called 'Rookwood!' all the time and being expected to respond in an instant. What was wrong with his first name?

He was an Unspeakable, he understood that. It was ironic really, as all through his younger years he had complained endlessly about nobody ever being able to say his name when it was so much better than other names, like 'Amycus' (what was Carrow's mother _thinking?) _but everyone could pronounce _his _name. And yet because of his job nobody even _needed _to know his name, he was just an Unspeakable, and later he was just a Death Eater.

But in that last battle, when he had killed the Weasley twin, Fred, the brother had shouted and screamed his name. "_ROOKWOOD!"_

Augustus Rookwood wasn't stupid.

He knew that he'd overstepped the line, and the brothers of the boy wouldn't rest until he was dead, but it would've been nice, just once, if somebody could've used his first name.


	29. Avery

**29. Daddy Ain't Always Right**

**Disclaimer: **I Disclaim.

**AN: **I know! It's been forever since I updated this story! You all hate me! But… I'm in _OZ! _Or I was when I first wrote this. But my JETLAG (I HATE jetlag) has finally gone and I'm in such a good MOOD right now it's unreal! And… yeah! I got writers block for this one, but it came to me suddenly and I wrote it down real quick. Review please, I'm aiming to pass 100!

…

His father had first spoken of blood supremacy when he was four.

Well, it wasn't the first time his father had spoken _of _it, but it was the first time his father had spoken about it to _him. _He had been much too young to understand much, but he had picked up that the reason that Daddy wouldn't let him play with the other children in town was because their blood was dirty, like Mud.

That's what Daddy called them: Mudbloods.

Avery hadn't understood at first; but when his Daddy unexpectedly slashed at his arm with his fingernails, and red blood flowed out of the gashes. Daddy said to him that his blood was pure, so it was the nice red colour, but the children's blood was dirty, and coloured.

Avery thought that it smelled rusty, but he didn't say so to his Father.

Many years later though, when he was nineteen, he went on his first muggle murdering spree, and the streets ran red with blood, Avery realised that if his father was right, if his _Lord _was right, then it shouldn't have been red and rusty and pure; it should've been brown and murky and stinking. And that scared Avery; that he may've been wrong.

Maybe he was wrong… to take the mark. Wrong to vow to kill those without the purest blood. Wrong to let all the blood on his left forearm burn black, every single night (did that count as pure? Avery didn't think so).

But, he had to be wrong. It must just have been the light that made the muggle's blood look as pure as his own.

So he killed a few more, just to be sure.

It made him feel no better.


	30. Bane

**30. Foals Dance**

**Disclaimer:** Who do YOU think owns Harry Potter?

**AN:** Had to get this out the way, as I just wanted to move quickly onto the B's. 25 more letters to go... *groans*

Now... guess which part of the story this is referring to! I'll give you virtual cookies if you do!

**...**

Bane's earliest memory was of foals like himself dancing round the soul tree, deep in the forest where no human would find it, their movements different than the next one in the circle of life, some slow dancers with wobbling limbs, or some blurring with speed, scuffing the ground as they moved.

Some with raven coats as black as night, others with dappled tails that looked like the sun was colouring them through the canopies. Once or twice, there were those with white coats, unblemished, sometimes mistaken as the solitary unicorns that moved softly through the trees.

Every child - _foal, _had it's own unique dance, some doomed to always step too heavily, others born with the natural grace, to pirouette round obstacles like it were a second nature, others tripping and falling, incorporating it in the dance so that it is as beautiful as the rest, somehow.

Nobody should ruin the dance, the centaurs special dance. Because _humans _could never have dances as beautiful as these... The humans would be jealous, every time they touched a noble centaur, they drained the dance from them, Bane was sure of it.

"_You should be ashamed of yourself!"_

But Bane had forgotten - that humans had their own dance. And no foal, no child, could dance once it was dead.


	31. Barty Crouch Jr

**31. The Kisses Of Barty Crouch Jr**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**AN: **So, my new years resolution is to do at least one of these a week, or more. I'm really sorry for leaving them for so long, but... forgive me? *blinks*

By the way... **_MERRY CHRISTMAS! HOPE YOU GOT EVERYTHING YOU WANTED AND HAVE A LOVELY 2013!_**

**...**

The first kiss that Barty Crouch Jr ever received, was upon his forehead by his mother, Victoria Crouch, who loved him more than life itself. Her love, in later years, would be put to the test, and she would never fail a single one - she bought him a broom when his father told him to study Latin, she cried at his graduation and was the only person he smiled back to in the crowd, and she eventually paid the ultimate price for her son to live on, because she loved him _that much._

She was the only person whose kiss was full of love and only love.

The second kiss Barty Crouch Jr received was from Bobby the house elf, when said elf fell over and crashed into a five year old Barty, who was regrettably the same height as Bobby, so that their lips connected entirely by accident, and his father, Barty Crouch Sr first began to resent his son as he saw _his _son, his _pureblooded _son lock lips with a male house elf as he walked into the room. He never waited for an explanation. Why should he?

The third kiss Barty Crouch Jr received was from Niamh MacMillan, under some enchanted mistletoe. Neither party had been happy. After attempting to peck her on the cheek, and the spell not reversing, Niamh had sighed and pressed her thin lips against his. It wasn't entirely horrible, either. In fact, Barty quite liked it. They dated for three years, and when she was killed by the dark lord for not being on time to a meeting, he never really got over her.

The fourth kiss Barty Crouch Jr had was not received, but given. He kissed the dark lord's robes with reverence and promised to serve him until the day he died, a promise he never regretted. Because he and the dark lord, they were not so different. He would never be as great as the dark lord, but he was proud to serve such a great man./

And, the fifth kiss Barty Crouch Jr received was by the sucking, dark abyss of a mouth of a dementor, and just before his soul was taken and ripped to shreds, he _smiled, _because the dark lord would rise and he might see Niamh again (because death and losing one's soul are not so different, surely) and he never cared for that house elf anyway, and his mother would be waiting to welcome him because she would forever wait for him.


	32. Barty Crouch Sr

**32. Bones**

**Disclaimer: ME NO OWN HARRY POTTER.**

**AN: **I hope you liked it... it's very hard to write for characters who seem to have no souls or essence. Although luckily I do know what to do for Pettigrew (If I ever get there), rest assured.

**...**

Barty Crouch hated bones.

He hated them to the core.

He could deal with blood (red and rushing and rusty then brown and blotting and bleaching) and he could deal with tissues (it's nothing, nothing).

But he hated, hated bones.

It wasn't the word, for many years he worked closely with one Amelia Bones, whose last name never bothered him once. No, he didn't flinch at names or words or sounds.

It was the pure concept of it.

The bones creaked in the mornings and they protruded into his mouth, they were once white but then they became grey and yellow and marred and disgusting, they multiplied as people grew, somehow breeding more and more sticks of white and yellow and grey and brittle and creaking in the mornings.

Barty Crouch hated bones.

His son knew this.

Maybe it was a good thing, Barty Crouch never knew what his son had turned his body into after he had been killed by his own flesh and blood and bone.


	33. Basilisk

**33. **Slither Slither

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**AN: **Yes, it's poetry. I attempted to write something in my normal style, but it wasn't working. I hope you all like it, I'm sorry for the wait (:

**...**

_Slither slither through the night_

_Move softly through the pipes_

_Hear the children dance_

_Hear the children play_

_See them for a second_

_Before your gaze sends them far far away_

_Slither slither through the night_

_Hear the heir hissing_

_Don't look him in the eyes_

_You miss the master_

_Who lives in a grave_

_And you know the horror story_

_Is about to begin again_


	34. Bathilda Bagshot

**34. Bad Essay Bagshot**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter.

**AN: **Pretty much, I wanted to show a reason for why Hermione was so obsessed with this particular book. Also, I think of Bathilda as a very kind character, who didn't want to badmouth the Dumbledores to Rita Skeeter even after only Aberforth survived and they were so horrible to her, as well as befriending the Potters although she must've known they had a price on their heads.

**...**

_Do it again, Bagshot._

_Now, to show you how to do a good essay, Bagshot pay attention, you may not graduate without this._

_Atrocious Bagshot._

_Usually when presented with this kind of potion, I would say the student could do better and that they were slacking off. But, as it's your Bagshot I'm sure you tried your very hardest to make it this terrible._

Bathilda Bagshot had had enough.

She was tired of the 'Bad Essay Bagshot' nickname and she was tired of being bullied by her peers and she was tired of being bullied by her teachers and her spirits being beaten down again and again because she wasn't very good at structure or listening to instructions.

Bathilda Bagshot was a free spirit, but people didn't seem to compute and thought that 'free' meant 'stupid'.

She would show them.

So she sat down in the common room and ignored the jibes as she began to write and introduction to the school with her History Of Magic notes, where only she ever listened, and Professor Binns never noticed that he even had students asleep so why would he notice when somebody was listening so why would she be praised?

Then she wrote about the Welcome Feast and the sky of diamonds and she wrote about the House Elves (which would later be taken out by her publisher) and she wrote about the houses and the legacies and she wrote about the subjects in the first one hundred pages. Enough to bore anyone who wasn't persistent, who didn't want to _learn._

Then she wrote about bigotry. About the Prefect's Bathroom. About the Room of Requirement. She wrote about Blood Ties and the Honeymoon Suite on the Nineteenth Floor that nobody knew existed. She wrote about the teachers and there, yes, she was honest. She listed their accomplishments. Then she ate them for breakfast and spat them out again. She listed how to successfully deal with bullies.

The book took her ten years to complete, as there was always more to add, another child to avenge.

But when it was done - every learned person in the wizarding world shook her hand and told her she had done a great service to the community and that, by jove, she was one of the cleverest witches they had ever met for getting revenge in such a sensational way.


	35. AN

Hello readers :)

I haven't used this account in a while, and just to make it official, every one of the works on this account if not completed is unfinished and will be abandoned along with the account. If you want to adopt any one of the stories, feel free, just please put that the original idea was mine and however many chapters you are using are mine.

This account will be left as it is, not deleted so you can still look at the stories, and the completed ones that I like will be edited and probably put onto my ao3 account which is: thegirl.

Sorry and thanks for liking, reading, reviewing and commenting on my stories, this website has made me so much more confident in my writing and I have you all to thank for that.

Thanks.


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